May 07, 2012

First Martyrs: Witnesses of Truth

Who was the first to die for the faith? The first to judge truth and God’s glory more important than life itself? Each of the “Reformation faiths” had their share of witnesses, and here are the first such men for the Lutheran, Calvinist, and Anabaptist traditions. (I apologize if there were others who took the title of “first” --- this is what I found while researching, but I will give honor where it is due if I discover otherwise).

Lutheran

Heinrich Voes and Johannes Esch. These two young men shared a common factor with their spiritual mentor Martin Luther . . . they first stepped into history as Augustinian monks.  These first Lutheran martyrs did not live in Germany but in Belgium, and they were burned at the stake in June 1523. This was six years after the world-changing 95 Theses were posted on the Castle Church door in Wittenberg, Germany. Luther wrote the song “Flung to the Heedless Winds” in honor of Esch and Voes. The lyrics can be found in my post of March 25. 

Huguenot (Calvinist)

Jean Valliere was burned in August 1523 for professing Protestant beliefs. Along with Louis de Berquin and Jacques Pavennes, Jean is known as one of the first “Huguenot” martyrs, but I think they were in fact the first Protestant martyrs in France --- they were of the Lutheran tradition. The Calvinistic tradition with which the Huguenots were associated did not emerge until the 1530s). The year was 1525. Two years earlier the blessed words of Christ had appeared in the French tongue, converting countless souls to this new and joyous doctrine.

I was unable to find the first Calvinist martyr in France, but I did find a man who was one of the first. Pierre Brully, a pastor particularly enthused over John Calvin’s explanation of Scripture, was sentenced to burning in 1545. As Calvinism spread through France during the early 1530s as far as I know, I imagine he was one of the first to give his life for that faith. Brully lived for a time in Strasbourg and died in Tournai in Belgium.

Anabaptist

Felix Manz was considered the first Anabaptist martyr, being condemned in January 1527. The Anabaptists were distrusted by both Protestant and Catholic factions due to their austerity in moral issues and their stance on adult baptism, and Manz was sentenced to drown in the Limmat River in Zurich, Switzerland. Many martyrs chose bits of Scripture to illustrate their confidence in salvation and to prove their ability and willingness to suffer for their faith. Manz said, “into Thy hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.’

Why should we honor and admire the “Reformation faiths” martyrs? It is human nature to protect one’s own life no matter the cost. The idea that there were and are men and women who love Christ and His pure doctrine enough to give up even their very lives in deference to Him is one of the most extreme examples of sacrifice that history has ever yielded. These early martyrs were faced with horrific fates and yet they never reneged on the challenge. They remained calm and steadfast. They fought the fight and kept the faith. They won the crown. The blessed crown of eternity.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

May 06, 2012

Setting the Scene: The 95 Theses

What was going through Martin Luther’s head when he resorted to nail and hammer and fastened the 95 Theses to the Castle Church door? It has been theorized that, since the Theses were written in Latin, he believed that only the scholars would be able to read his incendiary and heartfelt words and provide the catalyst for a proper debate. It is unlikely he expected to change the world or eventually create an entirely new doctrine that differed from what the Catholic Church had been teaching for over a thousand years.

So what was his goal? He wanted to get people to think. To think about indulgences and their practicality --- or lack thereof. To think about the pope’s dominion over Holy Roman Empire-owned Germany. To think about their faith, their conscience, and their future. Martin Luther was deeply offended by contemporary practices and wanted to give the people an alternative to the only Church they had ever known. 

He wanted to teach these valuable words: “The just shall live by faith.” It was a concept few had ever considered. I like to imagine that scene, October 31, 1517. Preparations for All Saints’ Day would have been underway. Perhaps Luther was thinking of that observance. October in Germany was most likely chilly, and I can picture his heavy black robes blowing out in all directions in that certain autumn-scented breeze that we hayride-loving, pumpkin-picking Americans know so well. Few people would have noted his presence. It was commonplace to nail all sorts of notices on the door for the people of Wittenberg to see, and this monk probably interested them very little.

Any scholars might have noted his presence with passing interest, seeing that there would be something new for them to read and perhaps argue about. But once men began to read the 95 Theses, they set to work translating it into German. They put the printing presses to good use. Soon, what began as an invitation to scholarly debate began a revolution of Reformation thought and doctrine that the world had never before seen. Was this Martin Luther’s goal? Most assuredly not. But the result was the freedom of heart, mind, soul, and spirit --- and that was a reaction of which he could be very proud.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

May 05, 2012

The Power of Pure Faith


This is a song I wrote in honor of my Huguenot ancestors:


"Martyrs’ Cry"
(c) 03 May 2012, Joyously Saved


Far beyond God’s perfect sky,
Heaven shouts the martyrs’ cry
For the Father all was gained
Life was lost but soul retained.


Chorus
By His throne, the martyr throng
Fills the sky with holy song
Pure in faith and thousands strong
Upholding truth forever.


Pure in spirit, now washed white
Kept the faith and fought the fight,
Witnesses for truth and zeal
By the Throne they humbly kneel


Chorus
By His throne, the martyr throng
Fills the sky with holy song
Pure in faith and thousands strong
Upholding truth forever.


Bridge
Hallelujah, Father God, Lord of power and might
Now we lay our lives before You, turning dark to light


For their testimony slain
Martyrs’ blood like holy rain
They fell triumphant at the feet
Of the Savior pure and sweet.


Chorus
By His throne, the martyr throng
Fill the sky with holy song
Pure in faith and thousands strong
Upholding truth forever.


(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

May 04, 2012

The Matanzas Massacre: Those Who Justify

History has a sad way of immortalizing perpetrators and forgetting victims. Worse yet, sometimes events are twisted and turned so appallingly in the history books that those who ought to be remembered as the persecuted are made into the enemies. As I have always felt a great amount of compassion for the hundreds of French Huguenots slaughtered near St. Augustine, Florida, in 1565, it is particularly difficult for me to hear some of the theories that have been set force by laymen and professionals alike.

One prevailing theory is “it had to be done.” Many believe that everyone in Menéndez’s colony would have starved because there was not enough food for the Spanish colonists and French prisoners. That is the same as telling a group of ten people that one of them must die because there is only food for nine. I cannot ascribe to that theory. Violence is never justified. God makes a way.

Another theory states that Menéndez would have had no adequate way to protect himself, his men, and his colony if he simply allowed the men to go free . . . he took their lives “as a matter of necessity.” This is extremely offensive to the memory of the martyrs of Matanzas; it is a horrific thought in my mind that these French Protestants were so expendable that it was “all right” for them to be killed simply as a matter of convenience. 

It grieves my heart more than words can say when I hear justification for this horrific chapter in American history. “Thou shalt not kill” has no loopholes and no small print. As Christians, we ought to be disgusted with the idea that it was all right to harm someone even if those in charge felt they were a threat. These men were weak from shipwreck and had been divested of their weapons. There was very little they could have done to defend themselves, let alone to attack others.

Another argument I have often heard is that the massacre at Matanzas was politically-based and had little or nothing to do with religion. I cannot believe this. First, Pedro Menéndez de Avilés, St. Augustine’s founder, plainly expressed his hatred of the French Huguenots and their religion various times. He stated he had come to La Florida to “hang and behead all Lutherans <Calvinists>” he might discover there. And, when the men were captured at Matanzas, he asked if any were of the Catholic faith. These Menéndez rescued. The rest were ordered to be put to death. No reason. No justice. No protest. 

I firmly believe this was a martyrdom and that it was not “unavoidable” or  “justifiable” or “necessary.” There is always a choice. Even if religion were not involved, I still cannot believe it is viable to make martyrs of over two hundred men simply because your food supply is low or you worry there are too many men to sufficiently guard. Those are not reasons. Those are excuses. I mourn that not only did the Frenchmen of Matanzas suffer so much heartache during their lifetime but that their executioners’ actions are all-too-often defended centuries after their death.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

May 03, 2012

France Antarctique: The Brazilian “Fort Caroline”

If it comes as a surprise to many that there was once a French Huguenot colony in Florida, it is certainly surprising that there was a similar colony in what is now Brazil. This was the first such colony founded as a haven for religious freedom . . . and it, too, was destroyed and soon faded into oblivion. However, unlike Fort Caroline, which was founded not only as a Protestant refuge but also as a base from which France could protect her territory in the New World and a settlement where men hoped to become wealthy, the colony at Rio de Janeiro was founded mostly as a religious statement.

So how did it begin? The date was 1555, a decade before Fort Caroline was ravaged. Nicolas Durand de Villegaignon, a French admiral, desired that the battered and beleaguered Huguenots might have a colony to call their own. He agreed to sail with them to Brazil and, once there, constructed Fort Coligny at Guanabara Bay. Gaspard de Coligny, the colony’s founder and benefactor and also a devoted Huguenot, must have been pleased to learn of the name that was chosen. You might remember that he also spearheaded the later French colonies in ‘La Floride.’ 

Interestingly, the French were considered trespassers due to an earlier decree that had given this part of the world to Portugal and Spain.  In the year 1557, Huguenots began flocking to what is now Rio de Janeiro under Villegaignon’s protective eye. It was not only French Protestants who delved wholeheartedly into the idea of settling in Brazil. Swiss Calvinists came as colonists also. There were a variety of people that must have made an interesting mix: Men of various constitutions, women seeking good Protestant husbands, and boys who could do a variety of tasks.

Unfortunately, religious differences could not be overcome in the New World any better than they could in the Old World. Villegaignon, still a committed Catholic, refused to accept the Huguenots’ interpretation of the Lord’s Supper. Huguenots were forbidden to settle in or near Fort Coligny as of October 1557. The Huguenots were no strangers to betrayal. Yet it must have been a horrific thing to see when Villegaignon, once a friend, benefactor, and protector, had certain Calvinists drowned when they would not give up their faith. This might have been considered the first Protestant martyrdom in the New World. It would certainly not be the last.

"France Antarctique" shown on a contemporary map

The French could not have believed that the Portuguese would remain blind to the French colony forever. Mem da Sá, who had recently been made governor of Brazil, was urged to destroy the remaining Calvinists and their base. It was the year 1560. He managed to obliterate Fort Coligny but could not slaughter the French colonists due to their timely escape. Just as the Florida Timucuans at Fort Caroline loved the French and thought of them fondly, the native people of Brazil proved helpful in hiding the endangered colonists of Rio de Janeiro.

History tells us that Nicolas Durand de Villegaignon could no longer tolerate the way Huguenots and Catholics were so eager to spill each other’s blood, and it seemed he was very upset by the violence that existed between the two groups. (Author’s tongue-in-cheek note: It seems odd that he should mind persecution and bloodshed, considering he had drowned Calvinists who refused to convert to Catholicism . . .) By 1559 he was living in France once more. 

Then the Jesuits arrived. In this time, the Jesuits were the bane of every Protestant, for this powerful religious order were movers and shakers in the 16^th century world and were outspoken opponents of Protestantism in every way, shape, and form. On the first day of March in 1565, Estácio de Sá dedicated a new colony known as Rio de Janeiro so Portugal might finally take control of an area “infected” by French Calvinists. This miniature war took two years. During this time, Fort Caroline in Florida starved, was resupplied, and was destroyed alternately. In early 1567, de Sá had a big showdown with the French and won. Thus the colony founded only in 1555 lay in ruins by 1567.

Huguenot hopes in the New World had been shattered completely by this time. Rio de Janeiro was now Portuguese; the French had been killed or otherwise escaped. Fort Caroline, which has been raided and turned into a slaughterhouse in September 1565, was now a Spanish fortress known as San Mateo. Admiral de Coligny’s dreams were crushed . . . he bore this burden until 1572, when he was ignominiously martyred in Paris during the Saint Bartholomew’s Day massacre.

Little wonder that the Huguenot story is full of ghosts.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

May 02, 2012

La Rochelle --- Haven of Huguenot Hopes

Throughout the 1500s and 1600s there were few cities in France where French Protestants might feel safe. Lodging in major town centers such as Paris and Lyon could be deadly, as the victims of the Saint Bartholomew’s Day Massacre of 1572 learned much too late. At times it seemed that there was nowhere to hide. Yet La Rochelle was a beacon in the storm, a light that led the way to safety and self-rule. Of the many French cities that housed Huguenots in those stormy centuries, La Rochelle is the city best-known for its Protestant rule.

How did it come to be this way? ‘New’ ideas populated the minds of La Rochelle’s residents early on. The Protestant Reformation took hold, and Calvinism quickly became a force to be reckoned with. Catholicism was stifled in sometimes violent ways as Protestants struggled to keep La Rochelle as their own stronghold. In the year 1568, four years before the horrors of the Saint Bartholomew’s, La Rochelle was designated a ‘Reformed Republic’ and took a stab at self-rule.

Under control of the Huguenots, La Rochelle flourished. It was one of the few places in France where the Catholic Mass could not be heard, where Huguenots had the ability to govern their own affairs. In this it was certainly unique. There was a beautiful temple (as the Huguenots called their places of worship) that sadly did not stand the test of time. It was, in some ways, a ‘Calvinist Rome,’ a base of operations. 

La Rochelle seen during the siege of 1627/28

Naturally it was seen as a danger to fledgling Protestantism’s strongest opponents. Multiple sieges weakened the city. The first took place in between 1572 and 1573 as a direct result of the Saint Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. It must have been a terrifying time . . . having heard that thousands of Protestants had been slaughtered throughout the nation, then finding a safe haven only to have it be besieged would have been horrifying beyond compare. It is nearly impossible in this generation to imagination the constant anxiety of living in a time when such massacres could occur at any moment.

In 1573 the Peace of La Rochelle was constructed. This document stated that there were only three places where Huguenots might freely practice their Protestant creed: La Rochelle, Montauban, and Nimes. Huguenots of La Rochelle continued to grow in strength and began to rebel against Louis XIII, whom they perceived as a threat to Protestant freedoms. A second rebellion came in 1625. The French Crown had grown tired of the Huguenots. 

There was also the matter of outsiders. England was firmly in the Huguenots’ corner. Their involvement in the Siege of Saint Martin de Ré in 1627 ended badly. Soon the second siege of La Rochelle began. For over a year, Cardinal Richelieu, who had become an extremely powerful figurehead in France, bombarded the Huguenot stronghold. They held strong. Yet after fourteen grueling months, the starving Protestants had no choice but to surrender.

La Rochelle's former "grand temple," one of the most beautiful
Protestant places of worship in France, was lost in the 1680s

The place that had once been synonymous with the Huguenot faith began to sing a different tune. Fresh persecutions over the next few decades drove Huguenot families from their beloved La Rochelle. In 1661, hundreds were exiled from the city. They were perceived to be too powerful and to hold too much land in a city that those loyal to the Crown wished to develop.

Anyone with Huguenot blood should consider La Rochelle their legacy. Many photos of this beautiful old harbor city show its impressive towers guarding the entrance. One can feel the strength and might of this harbor and imagine how it must have looked when Protestants commanded it, for it was one of the only cities in France in which they ever had the upper hand.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

May 01, 2012

Why Did the Puritans Ban Christmas? And Other Questions

The French Huguenots and English Puritans had a lot in common. They were both Calvinist, and they were both committed to upholding purity in thought, action, and personal dress. Both were known for the simplicity of their dress and their refusal to wear the immodest garments that were popular throughout the 16^th and 17^th centuries. Yet the fates of these groups were vastly different. While French Huguenots were persecuted, tortured, and killed at alarming speeds, unable to support themselves in exile as the “Church in the Desert,” English Puritans managed to be feared if not respect, and during Oliver Cromwell’s rule they gained as astounding amount of power. 

So it is true that the Puritans banned Christmas? If so, why? This is my own personal opinion, but as I am going from Scripture and from what I know of Puritan thought, I hope it is fairly accurate. Opponents might accuse the Puritans of despising Christ or the story of His birth. Actually, it was likely the opposite. They respected Him too much to celebrate His birth with rowdiness and roughhousing. Drunken carol-singing and gluttonous feasts were no way to mark Christ’s nativity. Many customs had pagan origins. If they banned Christmas, it was because they banned the non-religious to-do that Christmas had become. The food. The ale. The merriment. The constant attention and devotion to holiday customs that had nothing to do with Christ . . . just like today’s obsession with Santa Claus and finding the perfect gift. 

I believe that the Puritans banned Christmas so they might commemorate Christ. Suddenly they are not these somber long-faced moral policemen in solemn black. They are zealous and devoted followers of God’s Word who celebrate only what Christ said to celebrate and preach only those sacraments that He directly instituted in Scripture.

Sounds like a plan to me.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved